


Laundromat Blues

by clarkescrusade (alindy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/clarkescrusade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's had a long day, like longest day of her life long, and by the time she's gotten to the laundromat she's about ready to just burn her damn clothes so she doesn't have to wash them. Bellamy steps in and helps her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted from tumblr by flirtingwithtrackers and an anon. This was super fun, hope y'all enjoy!

The only other person in the laundromat with him, a small blonde who was really too good looking for her own good (really, how did anyone make baggy sweatpants and a faded band shirt with a soda stain on it look  _that good?_ ), sighed deeply again. Bellamy certainly hadn’t been paying attention enough to be able to know how many times exactly it had been, but it certainly wasn’t the first. 

He stopped in the middle of folding a pair of his boxers and watched her. She seemed tired, severely so, and just about ready to cry at any moment. Her whole body was dragging, her eyes were drooping, and half of the hair that had started out in her ponytail had at some point fallen out and kept pushing into her face. The blonde dumped out all of her clothes on top of the machine, eyeing them for a second before shaking her head and just grabbing as much as she could hold and shoving it in the machines. 

“You’re going to ruin your clothes,” he exclaimed. The blonde snapped toward him, almost like she hadn’t really realized he was there at all, and Bellamy wanted to slap himself in the face. He should have just let her ruin her damn clothes, because now she was looking at him all confused and bewildered and he was going to have to  _help_ this poor girl. Sure, she was hot as hell, but he had somehow got stuck picking up Octavia’s boyfriend from the airport tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. and it was already midnight. 

The girl sighed, leaning forward and placing her head on the top of the machine and groaning. “I know,” she released in a breath, coming back up to look at him. “I just got finished with literally the longest day in all of my existence and when I got back to my apartment from a shitty ass day of classes and work I couldn’t even find a clean shirt to put on because, guess what, I haven’t done laundry in forever and I also couldn’t find any damn coins because I had told my roommate she could borrow them all to do  _her_ laundry half a week ago and for some reason it hadn’t occurred to me that you can exchange dollar bills for coins because, yes, that  _is_ how American currency works. I haven’t eaten today besides for half of a grilled cheese sandwich Jasper, the chef at the bar I work at, made me out of pity so my stomach is literally about to eat my intestines I am so freaking hungry and now I’ve rambled for a good half a minute to a stranger who is probably going to think I have some kind of social disorder and slowly back away from me in fear.”

Bellamy stared at her, watching her increased breathing from the rambled monologue she had just released, and burst out into laughter. He really should not find this funny, probably shouldn’t laugh for the sake of this girl’s well-being, but the whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. The blonde had basically just revealed her whole life story and then some and here he was, folding his underwear and now about to help her because sometimes there was something about a vulnerable girl that just sent him into big brother mode. 

“Clarke, by the way,” she stated again. 

“Bellamy,” he replied in a nod. He turned away from her, grabbing his favorite flannel shirt from his pile and a handful of coins before walking back over. “Here,” he stated, handing her the shirt. Her eyebrows pushed together, and he couldn’t help but think about how cute the way her nose scrunched in confusion was, before her face relaxed and she nodded in understanding. 

“Turn around, Bellamy,” she spoke, tilting her head to the side and he did as he was told, listening to the rustle as she changed into his shirt and waiting for a sign before he could turn back around. “Ok,” she sighed.

Bellamy wished he wasn’t as easily affected by the girl in front of him,  _Clarke,_  as he was, because it would make helping her a lot easier. The shirt was too long on her, hanging off of her and  _goddamnit_ , the sight of it might just kill him. The smile she sent him once he was looking at her, well, that might just kill him too. 

“Separate your clothes into three piles, lights, darks, and colors,” he ordered, moving forward and helping her. 

“Right-o, captain,” she answered him. They sorted the clothes together, the job going quickly with two pairs of hands (Bellamy very artfully dodged the undergarments. She was already wearing his shirt, he did not want to seem like more of a creep than he already had). 

“Now, we have forty minutes before we need to transfer these to the dryer,” he informed her, slipping coins into each of the machines and turning toward her. “What do you say we get you a slice of pizza from next door while we wait?” 

“You really don’t have to wait with me, you’ve already helped enough,” Clarke told him. 

“In for a penny, in for a pound.” Bellamy shrugged, grabbing his wallet and shoving the rest of his clothes into his laundry basket. He left it on the top of Clarke’s rumbling washing machine and assumed it would be fine if it sat there, seeing as they were only going next door. 

Bellamy ordered a slice of pepperoni (really, when was he  _not_ hungry) and Clarke got a piece of the place’s signature mac n’ cheese pizza (it honestly only made him respect her more). “I’m really sorry I have no money; I promise you I usually don’t make strangers help me with my laundry and buy me pizza.”

“It’s ok, princess, you’re wearing my shirt so I’m pretty sure we aren’t strangers anymore. Anyways, it just makes me a bit more special, doesn’t it?”

Clarke laughed slightly at that, shaking her head and grabbing their slices. Bellamy grabbed the two sodas from the fridge and followed her back over to the laundromat. She popped up onto an empty washer, crossing her legs, and Bellamy followed suit, handing over her Dr. pepper as she gave him his slice in trade. 

“You know, you certainly know a way to a girl’s heart. Buy her pizza, help with her laundry, give her a shirt that’s comfy as hell and smells like you, what more could she ask for?” Clarke declared in between bites, the pizza having seemed to rejuvenate her in the slightest.

“You think I smell good?” he teased, enjoying the blush that rushed to her cheeks. 

“You smell like shit,” she deadpanned, but she couldn’t seem to keep the expression on her face before she broke down and laughed. “I’m sorry, I think I’m going crazy. Actually, if you met me during the day I would probably bite your head off, but being exhausted seems to set me into a strange sort of good mood. It’s been a long day.”

“You work at a bar, trust me, I know,” Bellamy promised.

“That sounds like it comes from a place of experience,” Clarke prompted. 

“It does,” he answered. “It helped pay my way through college, that and working on cars, and luckily I’m making enough now to live off of and support my sister, but I certainly remember the hell one must go through to get away with those good tips at the end of the night.”

“You let the girls do body shots off of you, didn’t you?” she teased, a vicious sort of teasing fire behind her eyes.

“I can’t claim to be innocent on that front,” he admitted.

“I knew it!” she cheered, a small victory dance following the words. 

“What, you don’t have your tricks to get a few extra tips?”

“Mine mostly involve fluttering my eyelashes a few times and pretending to find tired pick up lines funny, but my most profitable source of income comes from the guys stupid enough to think I can’t play pool. They probably help me finance about 50% of my rent, honestly,” Clarke admitted.

“Not only do you probably woo a bunch of dudes into falling in love with you, you also hustle them out of their money,” Bellamy began, “wow, princess, you  _are_  cruel.”

“You make me sound so horrible!” Clarke exclaimed. 

“You said it not me,” he defended, raising his hands up in surrender. 

“I suppose I did,” she said with a yawn. “Tell me about your sister, the one you help support.”

“Oh, you’d like her,” he started, and Clarke latched on to every word. She listened to his story and eventually, without meaning to at all, dozed off into sleep. Bellamy didn’t want to wake her up, not after how tired she had seemed when he first encountered her, so he switched over her clothes and moved back to the washer quietly, allowing her head to find a comfortable spot in his lap.

Bellamy found it hard to like people, he would admit that, so it was so strangely bizarre that he had hit it off with this girl right away. After the last hour or so, he felt like he really knew Clarke, like he could ramble on about anything with her and she would understand, she would get it. She looked practically angelic as she slept, her blonde hair tousled around her, and he couldn’t help himself from running his hands through it. 

The buzz of the dryers going off woke her up, and she startled awake, clearly unsure of where she was at first. “Mornin’,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes and slowly sitting up.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s actually 1:45 in the morning,” Bellamy told her.  

“I fell asleep on you, sorry, you could have just left me,” Clarke stated.

“That sounds like a great idea,” he scoffed, “leave the sleeping girl alone in the laundromat. I’d love to see the headline, ‘young college girl gets murdered in a laundromat because an idiot leaves her alone while she was sleeping’.”

“That would never be a headline, that’s a horrible headline,” she told him, scoffing at his words. He smiled at that, mostly because she was still sleepy as the words popped out of her mouth and yet she still managed to sound so sure. 

“So, what do you do besides cheat men out of money and hang around in laundromats?” Bellamy questioned, leaning up against a washing machine as she pushed all of her clothes into one bag. It kinda bothered him that she shoved them all into a large bag and didn’t bother to fold or organize them, but he assumed she was tired and he let it slide.

“Sometimes I steal candy from young children and, if I’m really getting crazy, I order chinese food while my roommate is out on a date and binge watch Netflix. It’s kinda pretty insane, I don’t know if you could handle it.”

“Is that a challenge?” he tested, smirking over at her. “You don’t know this that well yet, but nothing tempts me quite like a challenge.”

“Well, then I challenge you to buy chinese food on Friday and have a Lord of the Rings marathon with me. We’ll see who can last longer,” she teased, bumping his shoulder and smiling brightly.

“Oh, it’s on princess,” he promised. "That's a challenge I can get behind."


	2. The Sequel: LOTR Marathon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those who wanted to see the Lord of The Ring marathon...your wish is my command.

“Clarke, calm down,” Raven chastised, looking up from the text she was reading on the couch. “If you pace one more time across my line of vision I’m going to throw this book at you.”

“Sorry,” she sighed, stopping and looking over at her. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Really?” Raven exclaimed mockingly, standing up and moving closer. Clarke watched the sundress flutter around her knees as she approached, and Clarke realized she must really care about the guy who was coming to the door to pick her up if she had adorned one of her limited dresses to go on a date. “I couldn’t tell at all.”

“Aren’t you nervous? I mean, you must like this guy you’re going on a date with,” Clarke replied, pointedly looking at her outfit.

“Nah,” she replied with a smile, “Wick is an idiot, he can’t do better than me. I’m instantly the cooler person in the relationship.”

“Ooo, relationship,” Clarke teased with a raise of her eyebrows. Raven rolled her eyes back at her, but she didn’t deny anything and she surely couldn’t resist the smile that spread across her face. It made her happy to see Raven so happy, especially with all the crap she had trudged through to get where she was today.

_Ding. Dong._

“Shit,” Clarke burst, instantly going back into panic mode.

“How hot is this guy to make you panic this much?” Raven joked, beginning her confident strides toward the door.

“Wait!” Clarke ordered, waiting for Raven to whip her head back over her shoulder and look at her. “One, he’s really hot, like you’ll see, but I have a right to be nervous, and on top of that he’s a legitimately good person. Two, how do we know which guy is at the door?”

“We go see,” Raven spoke back slowly, telling her to calm down with her eyes. Clarke took a deep breath, realizing how ridiculous she had been acting, and nodded in return. They moved toward the door, looking at each other quickly before Raven went and whipped the door open.

“Do you remember when Miller-”

“Of course I remember when Miller did that. He is too easily persuaded under the influence of alcohol.”

Raven and Clarke’s eyes found each other, similar senses of confusion displayed on their faces. Bellamy and Wick suddenly realized that the door had been opened and they had an audience, simultaneously turning back toward the two girls and dropping the conversation.

“He is hot,” Raven exclaimed, turning toward Clarke who groaned and threw her head in her hands. “Sorry, Clarke,” she spoke sheepishly, laughing slightly through her apology.

“You two know each other?” Clarke spoke up, hoping the words Raven had spilled would be forgotten. As she moved her eyes toward Bellamy, though, she noticed the smirk on his lips and, upon her gaze, a wink he sent straight in her direction. Clarke could feel a heat slowly rise up her neck, and she prayed that it would stay off of her cheeks.

“Yea,” Wick spoke up. He was charming, Clarke decided as she finally spared him a glance. Not Bellamy Blake smooth charming, but friendly and approachable charming, the kind of charming that made you instantly feel at ease, like you wanted to be good friends with him and he would know just how to make you feel better in a bad situation. This certainly wasn’t Raven’s typical type, but as she snuck a glance over at her and the silly smile she was shooting at Wick, Clarke knew that it was probably a good thing. “Bellamy and I used to fix cars together.”

“He was pretty good at it, too, not as good as me, of course…” Bellamy teased, smirking over at Wick. Wick shook his head but turned away, reaching a hand out to Raven.

“Would you like to ditch this imbecile’s presence with me? I know this little italian place I think you’re going to love,” Wick stated. Raven grabbed his hand, letting him pull her through the door.

“Don’t be too certain on anything, Wick,” Raven teased. She turned back toward Bellamy and Clarke, sending a devious look back at the two. “You two crazy kids have fun.”

“Please don’t blow up any microwaves,” Bellamy yelled after their retreating forms.

“It was one time!” Wick yelled back, but then the two of them turned down the other corridor and disappeared from sight. Bellamy chuckled slightly underneath his breath, finally turning back toward Clarke.

“So, the princess does own clean clothes,” he joked.

“Are you going to tease me from the hallway all night or come in?”

Bellamy smiled back at her, slipping through the doorway and eyeing the apartment around him as Clarke closed the door. She watched him take in the space, and somehow she managed to become both more and less nervous at the way he appeared to look so natural in the space. He sent her a smile, and somehow, as ridiculous as it sounded, Clarke knew she was _totally_ screwed.

* * *

Clarke leaned further back into the couch, bringing a leg up and under her. Her plate practically overflowed with food and it occurred to her that this probably wasn’t the safest way to eat her chinese food, but she didn’t really care.

“Do you need another beer?” Bellamy called from the kitchen.

“Yes, please,” Clarke called back, watching him enter the room with a plate just as full as her own and two beers cradled in his right hand. “I’m really glad you’re not a person who comments on how much chinese food I eat.”

“Do people do that frequently?” he questioned, handing over her beer as he got comfortable himself on the couch.

“When you are an asshole, yes,” Clarke replied with a scoff.

“So an ex-boyfriend?” Bellamy surmised, helping himself to a hefty bite of an egg roll.

“Oh, wow, aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes,” she joked with a shake of the head. “Yes, an asshole of an ex-boyfriend. He always got so pissed at it because, believe it or not, I’m a fairly normal eater but as soon as the ritual of Friday night chinese food appeared I went crazy, still do though I’m sure you figured that one out already.”

“That I did,” he replied. “Any girl with the capability and desire to eat just as many dumplings as myself is a girl after my own heart.”

Clarke smiled at that, plopping the dumpling that had been hanging from her fork as his words were spoken into her mouth. She took a second to look over him, at the dark blue henley he was wearing and the way his skin seemed to shine brighter from the contrast, at his wild hair, at the smiles he kept shooting her way between joking smirks, and couldn’t help but feel her heart beat quicken at the thought of him right next to her. If he could give her such a reaction just by sitting next to her, Clarke wondered what he could do if he actually _touched_ her. She tried really hard to not be too focused on the image of his lips on hers that flashed behind her eyes.

“Ok, The Two Towers?” Bellamy questioned. They had already made their way through the first movie, and Clarke had loved having Bellamy next to her during it. He added in comments at all the right times and sly jokes that actually made Clarke laugh; usually, when someone commented in movies Clarke couldn’t stand it, but Bellamy did it without being annoying or obnoxious. Not to say Clarke hadn’t shushed him a few times, at the good parts, but he had taken it in stride, shutting his mouth and leaning in further like he was trying to take it in too, curious as to why Clarke liked the part so much herself.

Even so, though, Clarke didn’t want to force Bellamy through a whole trilogy if he didn’t really want to watch it. He had seemed pretty cool so far about the whole thing and he seemed to be enjoying them, but it didn’t feel fair to not give him an out. “Are you sure? We can watch something else if you want.”

Bellamy looked away from the screen and over at Clarke, narrowing his eyes. “I’m sorry, I was promised a Lord of the Rings trilogy, are you backing out on me? I mean, I was pretty sure you challenged me, but if you want to give up…”

“No,” Clarke growled, hitting play with too much force. “I just assumed maybe you were just trying to be nice.”

“I said I wanted to. I say what I mean,” he replied nonchalantly, but Clarke’s eyes found his figure as discreetly as she could. His words hadn’t been harsh or intense, but there was a feeling hidden inside that made it clear it was true. There was something so startlingly refreshing about that, about knowing that his words had value and certainty.

“It doesn’t count as watching the movie if you stare at me the whole time.”

Clarke blushed and turned toward the screen.

* * *

“Why are you so tired?” Bellamy chuckled at another yawn released from Clarke’s mouth, but he wasn’t really complaining, especially not with her new position of laying across his chest. Having Clarke cuddled up close to him was oddly calming.

“Long week, I guess,” she mumbled. Bellamy laughed again as he watched her eyes pop open and closed; she was so clearly trying to force them open for the end of the movie, but it was harder with each passing second.

“Hey, Clarke?”

“Yea?” she muttered into his chest, pushing herself more heavily into him. Bellamy liked that she was more honest when she was tired, more willing to make herself close to others. Honestly, so far he had been finding that he pretty much liked everything about Clarke Griffin; he’d say the evening was going pretty well.

“I’m glad you invited me over,” he admitted, watching her rouse a little more awake and meet his eyes. Her sleepy expression was too cute, and he smiled down at her.

“I’m glad you like hanging out with weirdos who like unhealthy amounts of chinese food and fantasy adventure trilogies,” she replied.

Bellamy’s smile grew, and he reached for the side of her face, moving gently forward. Clarke moved her body up, so she was more on plane with Bellamy, and closed the distance between their lips. Their lips moved softly across the others, sleepy and sound but sweet, something Clarke knew she could never tire of. With one of Bellamy’s hands on her waist and the other slightly tangled in her hair, her own arms trapped on his chest between their bodies, Clarke felt perfectly content.

“Don’t get too confident about me liking you or anything,” he whispered as she pulled back, “you’re just alright.”

“Sure,” Clarke scoffed, hopping up onto her knees before plopping back down onto his chest. He grunted at the sudden pressure he hadn’t expected, and she smiled mischievously up at him. “I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“Just watch the movie, princess,” he ordered. She rolled her eyes at him, but snuggled closer and moved her eyes back toward the screen.

“I kinda like when you call me princess,” she admitted.

“That’s because you’re a fantasy nerd,” he scoffed.

Clarke groaned, sighing as Bellamy placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Shut _up_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me on tumblr -> [castielscrusade](http://castielscrusade.tumblr.com/)  
> I always accept prompts, by the way, so if you have any bellarke ideas you desperately need written feel free to leave them in my inbox.


End file.
